


career day

by loonylu



Series: up the wolves 'verse [3]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Betrayal, Career Change, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Shooting, Smoking, but tbh this one just isn't that dark, juno gets fucking marooned, juno needs therapy, juno's having a tough time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:53:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonylu/pseuds/loonylu
Summary: It's been fifteen years since Jet found Juno in that basement. Now, Juno is twenty-four and his criminal career has hit a bit of a road block. Alessandra has some advice.
Series: up the wolves 'verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958491
Comments: 7
Kudos: 89





	career day

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is in the same universe as my fic Up the Wolves (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567223/chapters/51418429). Essentially, it's an AU where Jet adopts Juno and Ben when they're nine. I'd recommend reading that first!

Juno hangs up the call with more force than is probably necessary, and lets his back hit the wall. He slides down, slowly, until he’s sitting on the floor of a fucking ancient hab-style early-colony abandoned outpost on some little fucking asteroid near Ranga. He’s lucky he even remembered Peter’s comms number. 

“Fuck,” he says out loud, once, to test that his voice still works. It does. 

He feels like he did eons ago, hiding in the basement where he met Jet. He feels small, and insignificant, and proud of himself for surviving, and mostly hungry and cold. He drags a hand down his face. 

It could be worse. The hab is on emergency power, so the lights are dim and the air is cold but livable. The hab is small, maybe the size of his ma’s old apartment in Oldtown, but it seems to be doing its job of keeping him breathing. It’ll take at least four days for Peter to get to him, apparently, so he’s alone with his thoughts for the better part of a week. 

Being alone hasn’t ever bothered him, not really, not like it bugs Ben, but now he feels like crawling out of his skin and screaming. 

This was not supposed to happen. He’s a  _ damn _ good thief. Jet taught him the basics, Buddy took him on as an apprentice, and he’s pulled some solid heists solo in his short career. He’s not like  _ Peter _ , all suave charm and fake names, but he’s good at planning and he’s good at reacting and he’s damn good at shooting. He’s good to have on a team.

Well, maybe not great on a team. Or not as great as he’d thought. He’d joined Orion Jack’s crew on Buddy’s recommendation a couple of months ago. She thought it’d be good for him to join a crew that was just starting out rather than joining a crew that was more established. Juno had agreed, since he didn’t want to be treated like a child or a beginner. Orion was a hothead, Juno started arguments like he was getting paid for it, and two months after joining the crew Orion had made the executive decision to maroon him here. 

“You don’t realize, kid,” Orion had said, which was especially fucking rich considering the asshole is  _ a year older than him _ . “You’re dispensable. I can find another sharpshooter goon in an instant who doesn’t fucking argue with every other word I say. You fucked up this handoff and lost us a sale. Last straw.” 

Juno, groaning on the floor from a stun blast to the shoulder, didn’t even have a chance to reply before Orion tossed an old set of comms at him and breezed out the fucking airlock to his ship with Jenny and Ren at his side. 

Jet  _ cannot  _ know about this. That is priority one. He may be twenty-four, but he knows he’s not strong enough to weather the tide of Jet’s concern. Jet would worry in his slow and measured way, and Juno would fold like a house of cards and admit - well. Things he doesn’t necessarily want to admit to himself, let alone Jet. 

Over the comms, Peter had sworn in six different languages that he wouldn’t tell Jet. Showoff.

Juno hadn’t bothered asking him not to tell Buddy. Buddy would hear soon enough from Orion or someone else in the criminal grapevine, so it might as well come from her adopted son. Peter and Buddy, secretive to almost everyone, but almost unbearably close to each other - no way is Peter passing up the chance to gossip about Juno getting fucking marooned. 

Ugh. These four days are going to suck. Juno’s bandaged his shoulder as best he can, but it still itches and stings. All he’s got in the way of food is a couple of nutrient bars shoved in his coat pockets, and the water in the reclaimer tastes stale. All he has to entertain himself is a comms unit, and as Ben likes to remind him, he’s hopeless with technology. 

Juno stands up and hauls his sorry ass to one of the bunks that line the far wall. Being horizontal does not help his mood. His stomach growls, loudly, so he decides to deplete his store of protein bars and hope for the best. It won’t be the first time he’s gone without food for a couple of days. If he could do it when he was eight, he can do it now. 

Digging in the pockets of his coat, his fingers brush a piece of paper. He pulls it out with no fanfare, tearing the corner slightly and then immediately regretting it. The paper is violently pink and has greasy fingerprints on the outside, so it’s from Rita. Upon opening it, he resolves to send her another case of Dusty Crunchies. It must’ve been tucked in that inside pocket for at least a couple of years. Maybe he should wash his coat more. 

“Don’t forget to call!” the note reads in loopy cursive, before listing comms numbers for everyone Juno cares about. Rita first, of course, but also Ben, Jet, Buddy, Alessandra, Vespa, Mick, Sasha, Juno’s old therapist (he feels a stab of guilt for immediately quitting therapy as soon as Jet wasn’t around to make him go) and Peter. 

Well, he didn’t need Peter’s number, and he doesn’t want to think right now about why he’s committed it to memory. It’s not like Peter’s number is the only one he has memorized. He knows Benten and Jet’s comms numbers like the back of his hand, but he definitely can’t call either of them. 

Huh. Juno’s not sure he’s ever been bored enough before to call people for fun. “First time for everything,” he mutters out loud, and watches his breath crystallize in front of him. This is going to suck. 

He doesn’t want to call Rita - she’ll worry and probably tell Jet. He can’t deal with Buddy’s disappointed face, even if he can’t see it. Vespa would probably laugh at him before telling Jet. He runs a finger down the note. How long has it been since he talked to Alessandra? 

Curled up on the bunk, Juno manages to get the comms open and dial Alessandra’s number. He settles back to wait, but she picks up on the first ring. 

“Who is this?” Alessandra sounds tired. “Do you know what fucking time it is,” she huffs out. 

“Shit, sorry,” Juno says. “I forgot to check the Mars time.” 

Juno visualizes Alessandra’s shoulders falling. “It’s fine, Juno. I was awake. What’s this weird-ass number you’re calling me from? Are you in trouble?”

Juno winces. He should’ve known a late-night call from a weird number would ping all of Alessandra’s alarms. She makes him feel like a little kid sometimes. “No,” he says. “Well, a little, but I’m handling it. I’m just calling to say hi.” 

“Does Jet know where you are, kid?” 

“Not exactly, and I’d really like for it to stay that way,” Juno wheedles. “Come on, Alessandra, I’m fixing it. It’s just a couple days till my ride gets here, Jet has nothing to worry about.” 

“Juno Steel, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Alessandra is heated now, but still hushed. Talia must be asleep. 

Juno thinks about putting up a fight, but he doesn’t have the energy. He sighs and tells her the whole sorry story, flopping over onto his back on the narrow bunk. “So yeah,” he finishes eventually. “Peter is gonna be here in like three days to rescue me. Probably going to be insufferable about it. Jet would freak out if he heard, which I would, y’know, like to avoid. But it’ll all be fine.” There’s some kind of mildewy stain on the bottom of the bunk above him. It occurs to him briefly that his little stash of Sola is still on Orion’s fucking ship.

“Damn,” Alessandra whistles. Juno hears the sound of a sliding door and the nighttime sounds of Hyperion from what must be her balcony. “That sucks. At least you’ve got a comms.” 

“I guess,” Juno says listlessly. “So how’s the private investigator life these days?”

“Going really well, actually. Lots of business in Hyperion. I’m having to turn cases away at the door.”

“That’s great,” Juno says, trying to sound genuine. He is proud of her.

“Only took what, fifteen years?” She laughs quietly. “Well, it’s definitely better than that shitty CPS job.” 

“Aw, Alessandra, if you hadn’t worked for them you wouldn’t have met me,” Juno says with a grin. “A screaming pain in your ass in a hospital bed, and it got worse from there.” 

“Yeah, I’d probably have fewer gray hairs.” She pauses a moment. Juno suspects she’s smoking again despite Talia’s insistence that she quit. “Remember your eighth grade career day?”

Juno laughs, a little startled. “Yeah, I punched the president of Venus. How could I forget?” 

“You had some assignment to hang around with someone with a career you wanted, and Jet wouldn’t let you shadow him - no, I remember that I was the second choice,” she says as Juno splutters in indignation. “So you followed me around for a day.”

“You had an easy case,” Juno laughs. It’s nice to have childhood memories that aren’t tinged with pain. 

“I thought I did,” Alessandra says with a laugh. “You definitely complicated that one.” 

“I thought he was the mark!” Juno protests. The argument is well worn, like a dance Juno knows the steps to.

“Why would the president of Venus be the mark in our case about  _ stolen lab equipment _ ?” 

“I don’t know! He looked like a scientist! He was wearing a white coat!” Juno is pacing now, and he feels warmer. 

“You burst out of the alley, screaming about stealing from the community health center, and deck the man in the face. The man’s bodyguards were too surprised to do anything.”

“I remember the look on their faces,” Juno chuckles. “They definitely weren’t expecting an angry middle-schooler to pop out of nowhere. That’s still the fastest I’ve ever seen you drive.” 

“What a sense of justice,” Alessandra teases. “Misguided, but top marks for a moral compass.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Juno mumbles. His mood sours, and he flops back down on the bunk. “Last couple of years haven’t been too kind to that.” 

“Crime isn’t exactly known for its moral fortitude, no,” Alessandra says slowly. “Is there something you want to talk about, kiddo?” 

“Buddy and Jet are pretty good at staying good while they do what they do,” Juno mumbles, face heating. 

“Yeah,” Alessandra sighs. “But they made a lot of mistakes on the way to learning how to do that.”

“I just… I don’t know. I’m good at crime stuff, and I like when it feels right, but…” Juno trails off. 

“But what, Juno?” Alessandra asks softly. 

“But I feel like shit,” he says tiredly. “Either I go along with shit that I don’t want to do or I speak up and get marooned on this  _ piece of shit rock. _ Everything is about flashy parties and getting high and bragging about big scores, and I don’t - I don’t think I want that any more.” 

“Juno,” Alessandra starts, voice heavy.

“No, I just - I liked it at first. But it’s been a couple of years and I’m tired. I have the skills and the training to be a really good criminal but maybe I’m just not cut out for it,” Juno whispers, tears slipping down despite his best efforts.

“Okay,” Alessandra says after a minute. “First, have you talked to your therapist about this? The one Jet set you up with in Cerberus?” 

Juno feels tiny. “...No,” he says.

“Have you ever seen the therapist Jet thinks you’ve been seeing since you left.” It is not a question.

“A couple of times!” Juno protests. “Just not in the last, y’know, couple of years.” 

Alessandra’s sigh is longsuffering. “Okay. Putting that aside. You know no one would be disappointed if you decided not to become an intergalactic thief, right? You don’t have to follow in the family business. I think Jet would actually really prefer it if you weren’t in constant danger.” 

Juno swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s what I’m good at, though.”

“You’re a smart kid. There are a lot of jobs out there. You’re a crack shot and you’ve got a great head for puzzles. Hell, you could go to college, get a degree. You’re not stuck here.”

“Well, right now I am literally stuck here, Alessandra,” Juno quips.

“Shut up, you,” she mock-growls. 

They both fall silent for a second. Juno can hear the sounds of Hyperion City, tinny through the comms. 

“Come back to Hyperion,” Alessandra says abruptly. “Work with me. I’ll show you the ropes of the P.I. business and you can take on the cases I don’t have time for.”   
  


“What?”

“Come on, kid. It’s basically the only legal thing you can do where strategy and sharpshooting are both useful. Well, the only thing that isn’t being a fucking cop.” 

“That’s true,” Juno finds himself saying. “I - can I think about it, Alessandra?” 

“Yeah, of course,” she says. “You’ve just got a lot of people who love you, back here in Hyperion.” Juno hears a muffled voice and the sound of the sliding door. 

“Hi, Juno,” Talia says into the comms. “I hope things are going well for you, but it’s nearly four in the morning and my lovely wife needs to get some sleep.” 

“Hi,” Juno says. “Yeah, of course. Get some sleep, Alessandra. I’ll call you when Peter picks me up.” 

“Goodnight, Juno,” Alessandra says.

“Night.” The comms clicks.

Juno stares up at the bunk over his head. Juno Steel, private investigator. Juno Steel, Hyperion City. Juno Steel, seeing Ben every day. Juno Steel, maybe making a bit of a difference. Juno Steel, part of something.

He thinks about it for three days, and then he keeps thinking about it when Peter picks him up. Peter starts calling him  _ dear detective  _ after he hears about Juno’s dilemma, and while it is very annoying, Juno thinks he likes the sound of that. Detective. Juno Steel, Private Eye. 

He calls Alessandra back as he watches the asteroid melt into the distance. It’s time for a career change. 

**Author's Note:**

> healingsteel.tumblr.com or @healing_steel on twitter!
> 
> and thanks to meverri for suggesting Orion Jack as a name and also thanks to the whole ballpit discord bc yall are the Best


End file.
